


冬眠 (hibernation)

by inverse



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Chinese Language, M/M, Translation Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 14:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inverse/pseuds/inverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a brief glimpse into long-distance normalcy. original in chinese; english translation available.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for bps challenge 39, multilingual. english translation follows beneath the original submission.
> 
> somebody very lovely offered to podfic this for me, and it can be heard [here](https://soundcloud.com/doublelifts/hibernation). it is amazing and even done in both languages, please do give it a listen!

去年冬天你在纽约时代广场打了个电话给他，经纪人决定放你一天假，也不在，也没有人理会这个身高一米九，头发染透金黄色的男子到底在用日语瞎说些什么。在那里你只是个凡人，看都没人看几眼。当时下午二时，在东京刚好半夜三点钟，他接起电话时满口粗言，好像是谁打来的都没看好，直接就骂了一句，“他妈的，是谁啊，找碴吗，半夜三更打什么死电话，” 你回答说，“小青峰，是我啊，” 他接了下去，“哦，是你这混蛋，随随便便这样打来，发什么疯？”

“也没什么，小青峰你说话总是那么伤人。” 但刚好那天的天气额外地清新，你心情特别地好，在外地忙了一阵子也没什么时间联络联络，所以电话打通之后你也舍不得挂。明知故问地问了一下，“在睡么？” 他草率地 “嗯” 了一下，之后所有你所说的话他也随便应了你几声，直到电话另一边全都是打鼾声为止。你知道他又入睡了，但还是边走着，边望着街边的高楼大厦，陆陆续续地说了下去。结果月底电话费搞到来有三万多日元。管他的。你有的是钱。

那年的冬天你没回国。

*

你们之间有个共同的了解。 也就是，你们随时能走出彼此的人生。听起来比实况更严重，但这就是异地恋的特征——没有个固定的中心，只有个隐隐约约的形状。今年四月间收到消息说他被迈阿密热火队录取了，六月间你回到日本，没到三天他又得飞到美国做全身检查以及准备入队手续。好是好在，这根本对感情没有影响。他离开的一个礼拜之后，你照往常的方式继续做工。香港，上海，伦敦，巴黎。不牵挂，因为习惯，也因为知道总有一天又会回到同个地方。还记得你第一次接到外地的工作，那时你们刚从高中毕业，你是到济州岛拍摄个人写真集，拍了短短三个礼拜，结果回到日本时就动物性地在家里关了个十天八天好好干一下。年轻人嘛。

今年你特别向经纪公司请假，说年底最后几天一定要回家过年。你妈说过好几次了，儿子的脸最近都是在电视上看到，这说得过去吗？十二月二十七号，乘搭的是阿联酋航空的班机，下午从马德里起飞。最后一次回家就是六月间那一次，他刚好要走了，不知道他也否和你一样，正从美国回返东京？在飞机上，从窗口望去都是一片云，窗玻璃冷的不像话，突然有种莫名的怀旧之情。望着玻璃倒影着自己模糊的脸孔，心想，过了这冬就是你俩相遇的春天， 不晓得他还记不记得？他总是对这些小事不感兴趣。还再过一阵子，夏季到来，是他最喜欢的季节。 海边，美女，沙滩，蝉虫，太阳低下的篮球。你好久没打篮球了。

*

到了成田机场已经隔天早上了。你搭了个德士，回到你们之前所同居的房子，先把行李放下，让自己休息休息。十多个钟头的飞机还真不是盖的。手机在上飞机之前也忘了充电，没电了。 如果是前几年的话一定会东奔西跑地找个公共电话；现在？算了，回去再说吧。真的能感觉到自己有了那几分大人般的——说好听是成熟，说难听是倦怠。

一打开房门，发现里面乱七八糟的。本来想好好休息一番的，现在看到就一阵烦恼。东西一向来都是你收拾的，但昨天晚上在飞机上睡眠不足，累毙了。解铃还需系铃人，你外套都没脱下就走向睡房，果然他就十分霸气地躺在特大号床中间，只穿了一条超级不时髦的内裤，大声地打鼾着。

你忍不住拍了他肩膀一下，特别用力地拍。他一打开眼睛，你就问，“怎么搞得外面那么乱？大人一个了还不会洗碗吗？什么时候回来的，怎么不跟我说一声？” 他也不回复你提出的东西，很像没听进耳根里似的，眼睛眯眯，望着你的脸，满嘴含糊地说，“哦，我们家超级模特儿舍得回来啦。”

“什么超级模特儿。” 只发觉耳朵顶端一阵热。暂停了好些时间的感情现在还睡意浓浓，但那份熟悉已像从冬眠刚起身的兽，从心中涌现出来。


	2. Chapter 2

You gave him a call last winter in New York, when you were at Times Square. Your manager decided to give you a rest day and wasn’t present, and no one even cared about what this tall, blonde guy was nattering away about in Japanese. Over there you’re really just someone ordinary. Nobody really gives you a second look the way people do back home. It was two in the afternoon – three a.m. in Tokyo – and when he picked up your call all he had for you were expletives, as if he’d opened his mouth and commenced his verbal attack without actually looking at who the caller was, “Goddammit, who’s this? Why are you calling in the middle of the fucking night?” You replied, saying, “It’s me, Aominecchi,” and he said, now calmer, “Oh, it’s you, you bastard. What’d you call for at this time? Are you mad?”

“Nothing, really. You’re always so mean with your words, Aominecchi.” But the weather was so fine that day and your mood was so good, and you hadn’t had much time to call back because of work, so after the call went through, you couldn’t really bring yourself to hang up. You asked him, knowing damn well what the answer was, “Are you sleeping?” He grunted half-heartedly, and did the same in response to the rest of what you said, until all that remained on the other side of the line was the sound of his snoring. You knew he’d fallen back asleep again, but you continued to talk as you walked and took the skyscrapers of 42nd Street into your sight. When the phone bill came at the end of the month it totalled nearly thirty thousand Japanese yen. Whatever, you have the money.

You didn’t go home that winter.

 

*

 

There is a mutual understanding between the two of you. That is, that the two of you may walk out of each other’s lives at any given time. Sounds worse than it really is, but that’s a trait unique to the long-distance relationship – a certain something with a grey, fuzzy outline where some real fixed core should be. In April this year you received the news that the Miami Heat finally recruited him. In June you went back to Japan, but three days later, he had to leave for the US for his official health checkup and to sort out other miscellaneous procedures. The good thing was, it had absolutely no effect on the relationship whatsoever. One week after he left, you went back to work as usual. Hong Kong, Shanghai, London, Paris. You didn’t miss each other much, because you were both so used to it, and also because you knew that you would both eventually end up in the same place anyway. It was a matter of time. You still remember the first time you received your first overseas assignment. You had just graduated from high school then, and you were sent off to Jeju to shoot for a photobook. It was a mere three weeks, but when you got back to Japan the two of you shut yourselves at home and fucked like animals for days. Young love.

This year you took extra effort to ask your agency for a few days off at the end of the year. How many times has your mother said it – I can only see my son’s face on television these days, does that even make sense? Something along those lines. It was an Emirates flight on the twenty-seventh of December, bound for Tokyo from Madrid in the afternoon. The last time you went back was, indeed, in June, when he was about to leave; you wonder if he’s now, like you, returning to Japan from the US. When you looked out of the window from the plane all you could see were clouds; the windowpane was cold from the air outside, and momentarily you felt inexplicably nostalgic. Looking at your reflection in the glass, you thought, it’ll be spring after this winter passes. That was when you had met, many years ago. You don’t know if he still remembers it – after all, he’s bad with little things like that. And after that, it will be summer, which is his favourite season. Beaches, babes in bikinis, cicadas, basketball under the sun. You haven’t played basketball in a long time.

 

*

 

It was already morning when you arrived at Narita. You took a cab back to the apartment you used to share, so you could put down your luggage and rest for a while. Flights that span more than ten hours really are no joke. The battery of your cell phone is flat, too, from when you had forgotten to charge it before you went on board. If it were a couple of years ago you would have been busy looking for a payphone around the airport. Now? You’ll talk when you get back. Sometimes you can really feel that you’ve grown up, into some sort of – well, if you wanted to be nice about it, it was maturity; if you didn’t, it was ennui.

When you opened the door, you saw that the entire place was a mess. You wanted to rest, but now this annoyed you more than anything – in the past, you were always the one to clean things up, but you’re thoroughly exhausted from your flight. Someone had to be held responsible. Without even removing your coat, you made your way to the bedroom, and indeed, there he was, lying in the middle of the king-sized bed as if he owned it (well, half of it), wearing a pair of completely unfashionable boxers, snoring away without any regard for manners.

You hit him on the shoulder extra hard. He opened his eyes, and you asked, “Why is the living room so messy? You’re an adult now, and you can’t even wash a few dishes. When did you come back? Why didn’t you let me know?” He didn’t answer to any of those things, as if he hadn’t heard them at all. Instead, he stared, squinting at your face, sounding as if his mouth was full of marbles, “Oh, our supermodel here finally felt like coming home, huh?”

“What supermodel?” you asked in reply. Heat hovered over the tips of your ears. The feelings that you had put on hold for so long were still drowsy from their engineered sleep, but that familiarity rose from deep within you, like a beast awaking from its wintry slumber.


End file.
